Voice Like Magic
by kinadream
Summary: Everybody watched in anticipation of Cheryl's next act. Nobody saw this coming. My interpretation of the sandbag incident. 2x18.


Her voice was like magic to my ears. It filled me with a sense of pride to hear Cheryl sing with so much confidence and certainty after what the last few weeks had thrown at her. It made my skin raise into little bumps, my hair standing on end because I could feel her passion in my bones. It radiated from her like the suns deathly rays to earth, but instead of light, it was a wave of fire and intensity. Her voice could lull me to sleep on the darkest of days. Could cease tears when furiously wiping at them with my sleeve did nothing but dampen me. Could make me smile bigger and brighter than ever before. Her voice was like magic to my ears.

Rehearsals had been going on full swing for the last week, practicing for our performance of Carrie The Musical. So, most days after school, the cast would sit on chairs in a circle, in the centre of the stage. We'd run lines and songs.

Cheryl got cast as the coveted role of Carrie. Naturally, she had a lot of singing and acting to portray in order to make this show a success. Which led me to listening to Cheryl's awe-inspiring voice once again. She was belting out the song and I closed my eyes to capture all of her voice, no distraction, until I heard a loud thud and a high-pitched scream coming from Cheryl. The song wasn't near over yet, and my eyes popped open to see Cheryl, still as a brick, staring at what appeared to be a sandbag that fell directly in front of her next pace.

I waited, for any sort of sign that she was okay or not. A flaunty turn around with her signature smirk, or a shake of her shoulders indicating the tremble of her lips as tears welled in her eyes. She dropped to the floor in front of the sandbag, hugging her knees. I started to walk over to her slowly, careful of what might ensue if I moved too fast and frighten my already broken but oh, so strong girlfriend.

Everyone watched with anticipation of Cheryl's next act. Nobody saw this coming. Nobody, apart from Kevin and Veronica knew about the physical torture that was placed upon Cheryl at the Sisters' of Quiet Mercy. Nobody knew about the physical and mental pain that Cheryl felt when she saw that menacing straw bag filled with thousands of tiny devil grains. So, when Cheryl's shoulders began to shake violently, and a loud sob erupted from her throat, Toni ran to her side and wrapped her arms around the shaking girl's shoulders.

"Leave!" I yelled. "Everybody, get out!"

Everybody left, walking swiftly to the side stage doors. In fear that if they didn't obey Cheryl's girlfriends order then there would be hell to pay. But, of course, Veronica did not obey. She was at Quiet Mercy helping to save Cheryl. She'd been there in the other times when I was not around. Hadn't she?

"What can I do, Toni? Tell me what I can do to help." Veronica requested.

"Leave! I don't need your help. I've got this." Toni all but screamed in reply.

"I've helped her through panic attacks and stuff before…" but before Veronica could finish, I exploded at her incessant need to be nosy and then leaving when things got too tough.

"And then you would always leave her to fend for herself when the truly hard part comes to fruition. Just leave!"

Veronica, startled by my outburst, left. If this were anyone else I would not be so overprotective. But this was my girl, who had been through hell and back, and I wanted to make sure that she had someone who would protect her with all their might. And that was me. Seeing her suffer hurt me too, I wouldn't let it happen anymore.

In the time that Veronica and I were yelling at each other, Cheryl turned into me, face laying delicately in the crook of my neck. My arm that had brought her into me was still nestled around her shoulders, but my other arm was laying limp by my side. I decided to move it to the small of her back and rub in circles to sooth her. When my hand made contact, Cheryl jumped back out of my grasp.

She managed to get a fair distance away before looking up. It broke my heart to see such a simple touch have such a negative reaction. She was curled into herself, like a child who was under interrogation by an intimidating adult. She had tear tracks running down her face, staining her makeup. Her mascara was smudged around her eyes which looked sunken and tired. Her chest was heaving up and down, gasping for breaths.

I tried to find my voice to let Cheryl know that it was me, but nothing came out. I was too scared to be too loud because I didn't want to scare off this already fragile girl in front of me.

"Cheryl, baby. It's me, Toni. I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"

It was like something had snapped. Like she suddenly realised it was me, and not those horrible nuns who forced her to suppress all of her feelings. She could just be herself around me.

I edged closer and she didn't move away. I took this as an indication to crawl a little further and reached my arm out. She timidly took a hold of my hand and I pulled myself closer to her. Once I was in front of her face, I softly held her cheeks in my hands and I looked her properly in the eyes. I saw fear and vulnerability. I felt the heaviness of her arms as she wrapped them around my neck and I moved mine to her waist. No doubt, she felt weighed down by that sandbag.

I pulled her close, but her breathing was still staggered, and I could tell she was struggling to breathe. In my experience with panic attacks, I always felt safest against a wall where I knew that nobody could get me from behind. I pulled back slightly to see if she was okay to move to the wall at the back of the stage. She gave me a small nod, but her breathing was not letting up. She clawed at her throat once she stood up, and we hurriedly walked over to the back of the stage, grabbing my drink bottle as we went.

I sat the redhead against the wall and I sat in front of her, holding her hands in mine to let her know she was safe.

"Concentrate on your breathing. Breath with me sweetie. In… and out. In… and out."

We sat like that, Cheryl trying to keep to the rhythm, slowly gaining her breath back, and me trying to be as encouraging as possible for this beautiful life sitting in front of me. I handed my drink bottle to her and she took small sips in between breaths. Once Cheryl's breathing had evened out, I asked the only thought that could come to my head. It seemed reductive as I already knew the answer, but I asked it anyway.

"Are you okay, love?"

Cheryl shook her head no, as I had anticipated, as tears still fell down her cheeks. I reached forward to wipe away a tear and brush a strand of fiery red out of her face. Cheryl didn't seem in the mood to talk about her panic attack and I didn't want to overstep my boundaries, so I started to hum.

When the lyrics were supposed to begin, I started singing. Her voice did so much to sooth me, if I could make even half as much of an impact as her then I knew I would have done my job right. I got to the chorus and I gently shuffled next to her, rather than sitting in front of her. I wrapped my arm gently around Cheryl's no longer trembling shoulders and pulled her close. She twisted so that her legs rested on top of mine and her head lay on my chest.

I continued to sing, slowly stroking my hand up and down the shin of her leg. I could feel her tense body start to relax, her muscles letting loose from their previously contracted state. I came to the end of the song with a gentle hum and Cheryl turned her head to look up at me. A sliver of a smile played on her lips. A vast improvement from the trembling shell of a girl from 10 minutes ago.

"Let it be." Cheryl murmured.

"Mum used to sing it to me when I was little. It always calmed me down. It gave me hope."

"I could use a little of that." Cheryl looked into my eyes. I didn't know what she was looking for, but I think she found it because she smiled a little more and leaned into me and we shared a slow, meaningful kiss on that stage. Our lips slid together, and it felt so right. Like nothing else mattered except for the two of us in that moment. Cheryl pulled back and looked up at me through her lashes.

"Thank you." Cheryl whispered.

I was confused because she was my everything and I would help her through every panic attack and sing her every song if it meant I got to see her smile, even for a second.

"Thank you for giving me hope."


End file.
